


Confrontation (or, that time Jemma excelled at preparation)

by ElentariR



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, elizabeth barrett browning - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 21:24:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15872010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElentariR/pseuds/ElentariR
Summary: Jemma wasn’t certain what she had done, but she was fairly certain that James Barnes hated her.





	Confrontation (or, that time Jemma excelled at preparation)

**Author's Note:**

> I started this little guy a while back, but didn't know where I was going with it until last night when I heard "On The Steps of the Palace" from 'Into The Woods'. I do so adore Bucky/Jemma!

Jemma wasn’t certain what she had done, but she was fairly certain that James Barnes hated her. _Hated_ her. She had thought they had started off so well, but after their last encounter…. The truth was painfully obvious.

He hated her.

They had met during his intake evaluation. Jemma had been able to remove the last vestiges of HYDRA’s meddling; her heart had broken when she saw the tears welling in the big man’s eyes when she delivered the happy news that he could never again be triggered.

A few hours after the evaluation, she had received an e-mail from him peppering her with questions about everything surrounding HYDRA’s brainwashing. Jemma had been surprised by the depth and breadth of his questions. Still, Jemma answered them to the best of her ability and even directed him towards other resources when her own knowledge was inadequate. Though they hadn’t seen each other since the evaluation, they had continued e-mailing. Gradually, more personal things began to slip in.

Before she knew it, they were friends. They never met in person – he was rarely at the base anyway – and he didn’t talk about himself much, but friends they were nonetheless.

Jemma had been rendered utterly speechless when he had invited her to dinner – complete with candlelight, wine, and food prepared with his very own hands. It was a date if ever there was one. Jemma had even worn a dress! But somewhere along the line, something had gone dreadfully wrong.

The dinner had been a disaster of epic proportions. Despite the romantic atmosphere, James was stoic and taciturn the entire evening. He couldn’t look at her, and he could scarcely manage to utter two complete sentences. She had valiantly attempted to stimulate conversation, but she was afraid she spent the entire evening babbling about nonsense.

Maybe that was why he hated her….

Jemma sighed. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail as she made her way to the gym. She preferred to run in the mornings, but with the evening she had just endured, she needed the exertion. She stopped dead in her tracks the moment she entered the gym. He was there, at the weights. He stood frozen with the bar held high above him. Jemma jerked herself from her stupor and turned quickly on her heel, practically jogging to the treadmill. Her heart hammered and thumped, and she was certain her cheeks were fifty shades of red. She desperately wanted to make a mad dash from the room, but her pride demanded that she not cower.

She must not cower.

She could feel James’ eyes on her the entire time.

On the bright side, she ran the fastest she ever had.

Enough was enough, however.

“James, we need to talk,” Jemma huffed out, hopping off the treadmill.

But he was already gone.

Jaw set, Jemma marched down the hall, made quick turns, and was in the lab. “Fitz, are you finished with the Net?”

“Huh, what?” Fitz blinked, looking up from his computer. “Oh, yeah. It should be good to go. Wait, wh...”

Jemma had already grabbed the device and was out the door.

0

Dr. Simmons hated him. He didn’t blame her. He’d hate himself, too, if he were in her shoes. Of course, he already hated himself, in his own shoes.

They’d talked and talked – over e-mail. He had no trouble over the internet. He couldn’t be distracted by her bright eyes and genuine smiles. He could bask in the sunshine she exuded in privacy. So when she arrived for their date – that he never should have asked her to – he was dumbstruck.

James loved listening to her. The subject was irrelevant. Her vivacity and sweetness warmed him like nothing else; it made him feel...human. And she was so intelligent! It staggered him. Dr. Jemma Simmons was beautiful, intelligent, sweet, witty, caring…

He didn’t know why she’d ever agree to go on a date with _him_.

He’d ruined it, though, as he knew he would.

Jemma hated him now.

Suddenly, James’ brisk walk to the kitchen was interrupted by a shimmering blue field appearing seemingly from nowhere, surrounding him. No, not from nowhere – from three nobs, one on the ceiling and the walls. The field sent pain through his veins when he touched it. He withdrew his hand with a hiss.

“James, we need to talk.” Jemma stepped out from around the corner, her face serious.

James frowned and pointed to the ceiling. “You did this?”

“Well, Fitz designed it, but, yes.” She smiled, studying her handiwork. “Ingenious, no?”

“Why?”

Jemma held her tablet in front of her and shrugged. “Because, although I may not improvise well, I excel at preparation.”

He didn’t understand. James crossed his arms. “Care to let me out?”

“No.”

He frowned.

“You’ll only run, and I’m afraid I can’t allow that,” Jemma said simply. “You and I both know that I am no match for you physically. And we need to talk.”

James arched an eyebrow. He allowed the corner of his mouth to quirk up slightly. “So this was your solution.”

Jemma smiled. “Brilliant, isn’t it?”

James exhaled and rubbed his face. “What is it, Jemma?” he asked wearily.

“Oh, well, it’s quite simple, really! Fitz-”

“No, what did you need to talk to me about,” James interrupted her enthusiastic explanation.

Jemma instantly resumed her solemnity. “We need to talk about us, James. About what happened.”

James’ face became stony. “I don’t think we do.”

“James...” Jemma stepped closer. Her eyes pleaded with him. “We _need_ to talk about it.”

His lips thinned. “There’s nothing to talk about. I ruined it.”

James could see the heartbreak in Jemma’s beautiful eyes. “Oh, James… You didn’t ruin it. Okay, well, maybe you did. But you didn’t ruin us.” She looked at him hopefully. “What happened?”

He sighed and settled on floor. He blinked when Jemma also sat, scooting even closer. If not for the field holding him in place, he could have reached out and touched her. Finally, he whispered, “You were so perfect and I….I’m not.”

The field vanished with a quick tap on her tablet and suddenly Jemma was in his lap, looking him right in the eyes. “Do you know what?” Jemma asked softly. “I don’t want perfect. I want you.”

Jemma’s words took several long seconds to process. He blinked. “I don’t understand.”

Jemma rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “I know you’re not perfect. _I’m_ not perfect, but thank you for the compliment.” She smoothed a piece of hair from his face. “I want you, James Barnes. Demons and quirks and all.”

James frowned. “Why?”

Jemma laughed incredulously. “Well, in the immortal words of one Elizabeth Barrett Browning, “let me count the ways.”

“I think I know that one.” James thought for a moment. “Sonnet 43.”

And then, she leaned closer and whispered in his ear,

“How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of being and ideal grace.

I love thee to the level of every day's

Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.

I love thee freely, as men strive for right.

I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.

I love thee with the passion put to use

In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints. I love thee with breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death."

James’s throat constricted with emotion. “You mean that?”

Jemma pulled back so she could see his face better. She smiled. “I do.”

James exhaled. “Would you mind terribly if I kissed you now?”

“No, I really wouldn’t.”

“Remind me to thank Fitz,” James murmured against her lips.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

James was more than happy to comply.

 


End file.
